


Steel & Thunder

by DominicAshen



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Anachronistic, Angst, Art, BDSM, Bondage, Cover Art, Digital Art, Dubious Consent, Elves, Embarrassment, Exploration, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fantasy, Fights, First Time, Fish out of Water, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gentleness, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, NSFW Art, Orc Culture, Orcs, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Public Humiliation, Public Nudity, Public Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Restraints, Ritual Public Sex, Rough Sex, Roughness, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Somehow at the Same Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:34:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25050208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DominicAshen/pseuds/DominicAshen
Summary: Two months ago, David and four friends got on a boat and sailed halfway around the world in search of adventure. Two hours ago, David and his friends were exploring some elven ruins when they were attacked by a band of orcs. The last thing he remembers before waking up in this jail cell was being thrown into a wall and a large, green, muscular man standing over him.With half his group injured or missing, and the other half cut off from their magic, David sees one opportunity to earn their freedom: Challenging his captor to what he thinks is a fight to the death. See, David tends to act without thinking things through all the way, and what he doesn't realize is that losing doesn't mean losing his life, losing means that orc owns him. Forever.The first book in the Steel & Thunder series will be released on April 1, 2021!
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s), Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 242





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young adventurer starts his day exploring ruins with his friends, and nearly ends it when they're attacked by a band of orcs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Tired of me popping in to tease you with more of this story yet?
> 
> As most of you know, I announced back when I posted the "final" chapter of this story that I would be publishing Steel & Thunder as a book. Well I am happy to announce that I have a release date for you: **April 1, 2021**! No, that's not an April Fools joke. The book will be available for preorder several months before that, and I will be sure to update you with that date when it happens. All of you readers have been amazing, and I still get comments and kudos on this thing even though it's a single chapter halfway through the story.
> 
> So I decided, why not post back up the first two chapters? Let new readers get drawn into the story, and keep my old ones informed and up to date on what's going on with the book. Both chapters have been updated, though the basic plot remains the same. I might also start releasing small excerpts, or some worldbuilding details on the setting. So please, if you're a new reader or an old one, stick around! I think you'll enjoy yourselves.
> 
>   
> 
> 
> Art by [jabberox](https://instagram.com/jabberox/)

“Are we there yet?” I hear Nathaniel ask for the _hundredth_ time since we started walking this morning.

“ _No_ ,” Elisabeth growls from the front of the group. “Now _stop asking_.”

“Yes, dear,” Nate sighs.

Corrine and I share a look, no doubt thinking the same thing: What does she see in him?

“We’re almost there,” Adam says from his position in front next to Liss (short for Elisabeth). “We should have just made it past the orc camps.” The people in the last town told us the orcs in the area were mostly peaceful, but we still wanted to play it safe and steer clear. I’ve also never actually met an orc before, so I’m not entirely sure I believe them.

Where we come from, there aren’t any orcs. Or many non-humans at all. Growing up, I learned there were orcs on the mainland in the south and east, but everything I knew came from the stories I heard. They didn’t exactly paint a pretty picture: lots of fighting, blood, and death. Sometimes they were a race obsessed with honor, other times creatures who would invade your land and raze your fields. So yeah, holding my breath on that one.

The current marching order has become our default travel formation. Adam, Liss, and I are the muscle, though those two have me beat in that department lately. They stay on guard in front while I take the rear, with our two squishy magic users sandwiched in the middle. I don’t mind—Corrine is surprisingly fun to talk to—but sometimes Nate is just so fucking irritating. I swear he does it on purpose. That’s what happens when you agree to travel halfway around the world with someone you barely know.

The five of us have been traveling together for a month now (two if you count that godsawful boat ride), and even rang in the new year together just a few weeks ago, making all sorts of plans as a group. Our goals as exploring adventurers are still a little undefined at this point, but after wandering up and down the coast taking odd jobs for weeks, we _finally_ got a lead on something good in Holbrooke, the last town we stayed in. Apparently, a few years back, an earthquake uncovered some elven ruins in the mountains. Most people stayed away because of the orcs, but the rumors of there being something magical and powerful inside were enough to sway us. The desperation to do _anything_ besides making a delivery or killing a giant rat may have contributed as well. That was four days ago.

I’m not sure what awaits us once we get to the ruins, but I trust my team to be able to handle it. Well, most of them at least. I’ve known Adam forever: tall, blonde, muscular, your classic golden boy who was nearly always the top of our class. I say nearly because the two of us were usually engaged in a friendly competition over...everything—sports, archery, sword fighting. Once, in the middle of a school day, we both jumped in a lake just to see who could hold their breath the longest. We met Liss when we entered the knight academy after finishing school. She’s maybe an inch or two shorter than Adam with fiery red hair that she normally dyes brown and cuts short. Since that’s not really possible out in the forest, she’s taken to wearing a hood over it. I’m just a couple of inches shorter than she is, clocking in at around 5’10” last time I checked. My black hair is currently shaggier than I like it, and I’ve got the beginnings of a beard from the three days we’ve been out here.

Corrine and Nathaniel joined us only a few days before we got on the boat. I was the one who noticed Corrine in the tavern, not that it was hard to spot the tall blonde pigtailed woman dressed like a nun. After asking me not to call her that, she told me she was looking for a group to make the journey across the ocean with for her “missionary work.” She seemed a little weird, but there was a healthy amount of fear and disgust over the establishment we were sitting in, so I knew she wasn’t totally out of her mind. Other than some Bible-study and group prayers, I haven’t seen her do much missionary-ing, but she says that “helping out anyone in the name of God is good work.”

We met Nate the following night in the same tavern after he answered an ad Adam posted. We were getting desperate for a magic user, but I still told Adam we might want to rethink going with the obvious mage-school dropout. His robe is dirty, his brown hair messy, and he seems to have perpetual stubble, even after spending days in the forest. He’s also _just_ a little taller than I am, which wouldn’t be something I’d ever pay attention to if he didn’t point it out _over_ and _over_ and _over_.

At some point during the boat ride, Liss and Nate started fucking. A month on the water with only your hand is no fun, and it’s not like I have any experience myself to speak of, so I didn’t blame her for taking care of what she needed to. I was just surprised it continued once we were back on solid land, and there were more viable candidates around. A lot more viable. I mean, he’s been a _fine_ wizard, I guess.

“Are you sure we didn’t pass it?” He’s just so fucking annoying.

“I think I see it.” Liss points as we pass a hill to reveal the base of the mountain. A few more paces and I’m able to see what she means, spotting a cave in the distance. Large boulders sit on either side of it, huge cracks split the ground and mountainside, but there’s still a clear path—as if the rocks have been moved intentionally.

As we get closer, the details get less fuzzy, and I can make out some of the stonework carved around the entrance. I’ve never actually _seen_ elven ruins before, so I don’t know if this is what they usually look like. There’s a smooth column along each side of the cave, but they’ve got to be purely decorative.

We stop just outside the entrance. The cave is dark—duh, it’s a cave—but that’s not an issue since Adam is already grabbing a torch and flint from his pack. There are letters along the top of the entrance—Corrine calls them runes—but I can’t read them. I swear it feels like I’ve seen them before, which is weird because, again, this is a first for me. For all of us, actually.

“Okay, I’m taking point,” Adam tells the rest of us. He’s technically the leader of our group. I’m second in command, though Liss might argue differently. “Once we’re inside, Nate and Corrine will start checking for magic. Elf ruins aren’t known for their traps, but David and Liss, keep your eyes peeled for anything I might miss.” He reaches in his pack for another torch, handing it to me once it’s lit. “Ready?”

“Ready,” we agree in unison. Adam draws his sword and in we go.

The walls of the cave are smooth, like the floor and ceiling. They’re plain at first, but as we move deeper inside, I see carvings along them. At first, it’s just more of the oddly familiar script I saw outside, but soon there are small figures, and then full-on faces, very detailed and obviously elven.

I don’t get much info on who they are, mostly because I still can’t read any of this. I’m trying to take in the details on the walls but also _everything_ _else_ since you never know when there might be a trap or a secret passage. These places have those, right? But so far, it’s just been one long hallway. I look back periodically and watch the cave entrance growing smaller behind us. I also hear some kind of ringing or buzzing in my ear.

“Hold.” Adam slows down. It looks like we’ve reached the end of the hallway and the entrance to a larger room. Adam and Elisabeth enter first, the orange-yellow light from the torch illuminating the room around them. “I think we’re good.”

The rest of us enter the room carefully. It’s pretty big. You could probably fit three or four dozen people in here. I count one, two...eight walls, including the one we entered from. They go very high, each one carved from floor to ceiling in intricate designs. I see words, figures, entire scenes depicted, the light making the details harder to see as they vanish into the darkness above. But what _really_ pulls focus is across from us, facing the entrance. Without being prompted, Adam steps closer and holds up his torch.

In the center of the wall is a large, very detailed sculpture of a man. I guess I’m not sure sculpture is the right word. _Is it a relief?_ I didn’t really pay that much attention in art class. It's a part of the wall, but it also seems to be coming _off_ the wall. He’s tall, though I guess I’m not sure if he’s meant to be life-sized or not. He’s in a robe, arms at his side, with short slightly curled hair and a full beard. He’s also got pointed ears, so not a human, but an elf.

“Do you guys hear that?” I rub my ear in irritation. The ringing worsened when we walked inside, and it’s making it hard to focus.

“David, get over here so we can get a better look at this.” Liss points next to Adam.

“Hold on.” Somehow, my ear and the wall aren’t the only things grabbing my attention in the room.

In the center of the room is a raised platform with a large pedestal, a brazier on the floor on either side. As I step forward, the buzzing in my ear grows, but it’s not so bad that I can’t light the two with my torch. As soon as the second one is lit, eight smaller braziers along the wall light up by themselves. The sudden illumination makes everyone jump, Liss even drawing her sword. No one says anything, waiting to see if we just sprang a trap.

“Shouldn’t you be telling us about things like magical lights?” Liss gripes, sheathing her weapon.

“Sorry,” Nate sighs before muttering a spell.

“I think that’s Zeus.” Corrine’s voice echoes through the chamber, startling herself. We all stare at her and then back at the wall.

The elf is flanked on either side up and down by clouds, each of them thundering with lightning. Strewn among the clouds and lightning are dozens of eagles, each carved so intricately I can make out the individual feathers from here. I’ve heard the name Zeus, but my family has never been terribly religious and wasn’t exactly interested in learning about someone else’s. But I’ll take Corrine’s word for it—she is the “missionary” after all. And if we’re looking at a god, I guess he might be life-sized after all.

“He’s not usually depicted as an elf though.” She steps past me, looking confused.

“The only other magical thing in the room is inside that box,” Nathaniel announces to the rest of us and points to the pedestal in the center of the room.

“Fuck, I think that’s where that sound is coming from too.” It hurts a little to even look at it.

“What are you talking about?” Adam uses the floor to put out his torch now that the room is lit.

“Seriously, does no one else hear that?” I put my own torch out and rub at my ears again.

“No.” Elisabeth moves forward. “What are you hearing?”

“I dunno, like a really high-pitched screech?” I shut one eye and rub my ear as if that’ll help block out the sound. The rest of the group converges on the pedestal while I stay put. Getting closer to that box makes my head hurt.

“Looks like it’s made of lead,” Nate says before tapping the box with his staff. “It's pretty rusted and banged up. Probably meant to block out whatever magic thing David is hearing.”

“What happens if we open it?” _It’s not gonna make my head explode, is it?_

“Dunno. Wanna find out?” Nate grins and lifts his staff high to strike the box.

“Hold on. Maybe we should—” Adam cuts himself off when he hears the same thing I do: footsteps. Heavy ones, coming down the hall toward us. _Shit_. “David, on my right; Cor, Nate, get behind us.”

I move to stand in formation, ignoring the throbbing pain in my head as I get closer to the lead box. I drop my pack and bedroll from my back and kick it to the side of the chamber, the others doing the same with their heavier gear. Corrine starts to speak the words to a spell, and a second later, my body tingles as the magic bolsters my strength. We all pull out our weapons as the footsteps quickly get loud enough for _everyone_ to hear, and they’re moving toward us fast.

I can feel everyone around me tense up as a group of orcs bursts into the room, swords drawn. A total of seven pour in, all green skin and leather armor, weapons aimed steadily in our direction. After a tense moment of both groups eyeing the other warily, the leader ( _I mean, he’s the one in front at least_ ) shouts something at us. Unfortunately, since none of us speak Orcish, it just sounds like a lot of growls and grunts.

Adam and I share a confused look, and he turns back to the leader. “We can’t… Are you able to speak Common?”

The orc narrows his eyes at us and huffs, looking _very_ displeased. He opens his mouth to respond. “Who—”

And that’s when all hell breaks loose.

“IGNI!” A fireball the size of my fist flies over my left shoulder, landing near three orcs on our right who leap out of the way as it explodes.

“Dammit!” Adam shouts, annoyed but having no real choice but to leap toward the enemy leader while he’s distracted.

Liss and I are right behind him, each taking on a group of orcs on either side. Nate’s little stunt, while stupid, did manage to take out at least one of my group, who looks to be out cold with some nasty burns. The other two might be a little singed, but mostly they just look pissed off. I hear the sounds of grunts and metal on metal to my left, and I’ve got to hope that my team is able to handle things themselves for now.

I grip the sword tightly in my hand, ignoring the constant ringing in my ears and waiting for one or both of them to attack me. I really wish I’d brought that second sword. These two are big muscle-y motherfuckers: a man and a woman. Strong doesn’t mean graceful though, and when one of them runs at me, it isn’t too difficult to dodge and send him flying to the floor with a well-placed kick.

Just as it looks like his friend is going to lunge at me, a high-pitched scream has us both turning our heads. I find the source, Corrine, running around the back of the room with an orc in pursuit. The rest of the team fares no better, with Liss pinned to the wall by one orc and Nate being _literally_ pinned to the floor by another. Adam himself is being wrestled to the ground by the leader who is growling something at him that I can’t make out from here.

“Hey!” I shout at the orc on Adam and rush him, and _fuck_ is he big. Taller than Adam and with shoulders wider than I’ve ever seen on a human. I attempt to tackle him, but he doesn’t even stumble as I bounce into his side. _Ugh, have I lost that much weight?_

I pick myself up and grab my sword, ready to try again, but the orc doesn’t give me the chance. Dropping Adam, he barrels into me, shoulder checking me across the room and right into the pedestal. As searing pain shoots through my head, I look up to see a blurry green figure looking down at me, and then everything goes black.

* * *

_I dream that I'm flying over an endless ocean. Dark clouds fill the sky above me, stretching on forever. The seas and winds are calm, at least until the rain begins to fall. It starts slowly, barely a trickle, but soon it’s torrential with lighting streaking across the skies and thunder so loud my body shakes. The lightning begins to strike faster, moving closer and closer, until with a loud crack, my vision is blinded by white._

* * *

“I think he’s waking up.” _That sounds like Corrine._

“Mmmmff.” I slowly open my eyes, the blurry world coming back into focus. I wipe a hand down my face and sit up. “What happened? Where are we?”

“A jail cell,” Nate answers. “The orcs took us back to their city.”

“City? I thought it was just a small camp?” I rub my head. Feels like I’ve got a nasty bruise.

“Nope, it’s a whole-ass city.” Nate shrugs.

“Pretty impressive, actually,” Corrine adds.

“Where are Adam and Liss?” I look around the cell, realizing they aren’t with us. We’re in a small cell with no furniture to speak of, the three of us sitting on the ground. The walls are all made of solid stone except one. Instead, it has a set of metal bars with a door.

“After you went down, Adam and Liss kept fighting,” Corrine explains. “They… got pretty banged up. The guards said they were taking them to a healer.”

“Yeah, right,” Nate scoffs.

“Fuck.” For once, I agree with Nate. We need to get out of here and find them _—now_. “What about you guys? Are you okay? Can you cast something and get us outta here? And what did they do with all our stuff?” Not just my sword, but my armor and pack are gone too.

“Not at the moment.” Corrine frowns and holds up her shackled wrists.

“Anti-magic bracers.” Nate shows me his matching pair. “Neither of us can cast anything as long as these are on.”

“Shit.” _How the hell are we going to get out of here?_ I’m the only one whose hands are free. “What do we do? What happens now?”

“They said someone would be back to talk to us.” Corrine frowns again. “But that was over an hour ago.”

“We’re never getting out of here.” Nate slumps down.

 _Like hell we aren’t._ I stand up and dust myself off. My clothes are in surprisingly good condition considering our situation. I wouldn’t have expected our captors to be gentle with my unconscious body. I’m missing my leather armor though, and Corrine and Nate don’t have their robes, just the shirt and pants they wear underneath. I think it’s safe to assume they took all our weapons and other belongings. First thing to do is to find out what they intend to do with us.

I stand and walk to the cell bars, too close together to stick more than an arm out. We’re outside, and the sun is behind us, our cell casting a shadow into the empty cell opposite us. I can’t see anything else, though I do hear the telltale sounds of people in the distance, so it seems we _are_ in a city. Then I hear heavy footsteps not far from us.

“Hello?” I call out, hoping it’s one of the guards.

“What are you doing?” Nate questions behind me.

“Finding out what’s going on.” I hold my face near the bars and shout again. “Hello? Is someone there?”

Sure enough, the footsteps get louder, and I almost jump back in surprise when someone with vibrant green skin comes into view. _Right. Orcs._ He’s a big guy too, with a shaved head, full beard, and a pair of tusks that go nearly up to his nose. I straighten up, feeling dwarfed by his size. The two of us just stare at each other for a minute before I finally have to break the silence.

“Where are our friends?” I don’t hide the resentment in my voice.

“Healer.” The orc narrows his eyes when he answers me.

“When will they be _back_?” The orc only shrugs in response. _Real helpful, this guy._ “Fine, do you know how long you’re planning on keeping us in this—” I stop and gesture at the cell around me. “—wonderful place?”

“Sorry,” the orc responds flatly. “Other cells being fixed.”

I roll my eyes at the bad joke. Either this guy doesn’t want to say much or isn’t smart enough to know how. Common isn’t his first language. “Is there someone else I can talk to, buddy?”

The orc sighs, looking annoyed before stomping off. Hopefully to get someone capable of saying words with more than two syllables. I hear what sounds like a door, so he must have gone inside.

“Well, that was helpful,” Nate mocks.

I ignore him, verbally at least, turning around to lean against the bars and flip him off. _I’m doing more than you are, dick._ It’s about ten minutes before I hear the door again followed by more footsteps. Expecting to see my new friend, I’m surprised by the sight of a different orc. He’s not as tall and certainly not as muscular, the skinniest orc I’ve seen so far. His skin tone is a little darker than I’ve seen so far, and he’s got short, slicked back, dark red hair and no beard. He’s also wearing clothes way nicer than I would have expected for anyone around these parts, the kind you’d see on stuck up rich people back home.

“It is good to see you are awake, Mister…” He speaks Common a lot better than I would have expected too, but the way he’s precise with his pronunciation tells me it’s still not his first language. _Does he have an accent?_ He’s waiting for me to finish for him.

“David.”

“David…?”

“Just David.” No reason this guy needs to know my full name.

“I see. Mr. David.” He adjusts his glasses before his dark green eyes settle on me. “I am terribly sorry for the delay; we do not get many situations of this nature, and it took me longer to prepare than I expected. I am Naruk Redwish, and I will be acting as your legal advocate. In a few days, once your companions are healed, the five of you will be brought before a member of the tribal council for a hearing on your crimes. Given the circumstances and evidence against you, I am going to recommend presenting a signed an admission of guilt, then we—”

“Hold the fuck on—guilty of _what_? Why the hell are we even being held here? What gives you the authority? What did we even _do_?” The words spill out of my mouth like a petulant child.

“Are you being serious?” Any cheerfulness in his tone has vanished. “Trespassing, destruction of property, attacking a group of _seven_ rangers. From what I understand, you barely even attempted to _speak_ with them, just drew your swords and blasted fire everywhere.” I turn to glare at Nate, who sheepishly ignores my eyes. “Three of our best officers are currently at the same healer as your friends being treated for burns and other injuries. Now, I am not quite sure what your group _thought_ you were doing, but I can tell you that your options on what you do next are _very_ limited.”

My mind starts reeling at his words. What the fuck have we gotten into? “What… What happens after the hearing?”

“Well, no matter what I think you can expect to do some time behind bars.” I hear Corrine gasp behind me. “Most likely, _if_ you accept your guilt, you can expect imprisonment for no more than six months. However, if you decide to argue a defense—and I _would not recommend it_ —you may be looking at a few _years_ at minimum if you were to lose.” Naruk speaks plainly as he lays everything on the table.

“Six _months_?!” Corrine sounds like she’s near tears.

“Holy shit,” Nate barely whispers.

“Those are our only options? Months or years in jail? That’s not… Please, it was just a misunderstanding.” _Okay, that sounded a little pathetic._

“Misunderstandings do not typically end with someone having their arms and torso covered in serious burns, Mister _David_.” He says my name with a hint of disdain. 

“There _has_ to be something else.” Six months in an orc prison? Would we even survive that? I mean, look at where they're keeping us now. I’m pretty sure that puddle in the corner is Nate’s piss.

“I am not sure what you would have me do.” He looks put out.

“Aren’t you guys supposed to be all about fighting and battle? Survival of the fittest? Isn’t there some other way we can resolve this?” I am _totally_ just pulling stuff out of my ass now.

“Do you not feel that being knocked unconscious and waking up in a jail cell already did that?” _Good to see sarcasm is a universal language._

“That was hardly a fair fight. Too many people in one room, and it’s not like either side was prepared for it.” Not to mention the loud piercing sound shooting through my head. “We certainly didn’t go in there expecting to fight a bunch of fucking orcs. I just want a rematch.” He flinches at the word fucking. I really need to learn to watch my mouth sometimes. But orcs love a fight, right? I’m trying to mentally comb through every story about orcs I’ve ever been told. Even the fairy tales. There’s something on the tip of my tongue...

He looks even _more_ annoyed now. “What exactly do you think we—”

“Trial by combat!” That’s the term I was looking for! Maybe it was a bard singing in a tavern or a story one of the old generals at the academy told…I just remember a story about an orc king ordering two of his subjects to fight to the death to resolve something. Strength and honor and blood and blah blah.

“Trial by…” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why would you think we—” He cuts himself off, suddenly lost in thought. “Actually, there may be...something. The _Nagul Uzu'gor._ I think in your language it would be called…” He pauses, looking for the words. “The Ritual of Steel and Thunder.”

“What is it?” Those words may as well be gibberish to me.

“A trial by combat, as requested.” His tone is... I’m not sure. It’s not annoyed, but it also isn’t friendly. “The captive fights his captor, in this case the captain of the group you attacked. He would first have to accept the challenge—which he is _not_ required to do—and if he did and you won, you and the rest of your party would go free. However, if you lost…” He smiles at me darkly, letting the unspoken answer hang in the air. _Death. It’s a fight to the death._ “Your friends would also still be brought before the council.”

I squeeze the cell bars, thinking. Six months versus a fight to the death? The two hardly seem equal. But could we even make it that long in an orc prison? No one knows we’re here or where here is, exactly. Hell, most people don’t even know I’m on this side of the world. “But if I win, that’s it? All five of us are free? We get all our stuff back too?”

“Likely minus some fines, but ritual or no, you would receive your belongings back once you and your friends are released.” He nods his head.

I wish I had Adam and Liss here to talk to. I could use some advice. They’d probably fight better than me too. _If they’re even still alive right now._ No, I can’t... I _won’t_ let us die in here. I can do this. I may not be as strong as I used to be, but I’m still a good fighter. Hell, I was handling those orcs in the ruins better than anyone else before I got knocked out, and there won’t be a stupid magic box giving me a headache this time either. “I’ll do it.” Another gasp from Corrine.

“Are you sure?” Naruk eyes me up and down. “There is no backing out once it has begun.”

“I’m sure.” My voice is confident because I’m confident. I got this.

“Very well. I will let the rangers know. If the captain accepts your challenge, someone will be out to collect you to begin preparations. Good luck.” His tone is less creepy and back to friendly, and he gives me a smile and a small bow before turning to leave.

I exhale once he is out of earshot, running my hand through my hair.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Nate asks, worry evident in his voice.

I take another breath, mustering up my most confident smile before nodding at Nate and Corrine. “Yeah. I’m getting us out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I _really_ hope you know what you're doing, David.
> 
> And don't worry readers, all the sexy stuff in the tags happens in chapter 2. ;)
> 
> Liked what you read? You can find and read more stories like this on my website at <https://www.dominicashen.com>. You can also email me at [dom@dominicashen.com](mailto:dom@dominicashen.com) or find me on Twitter at [@DomNAshen](https://twitter.com/domnashen) where I post updates, story art, and more!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for David to learn what fate awaits him...even if it's one he may not have been expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope all you lovely readers are having as great a morning as I am. :)
> 
>   
> 
> 
> Art by [@poppolio](https://twitter.com/poppolio)

Nathaniel, Corrine, and I sit silently in our cell, the tension thick in the air. No one has tried to talk me out of it though. Just an awkward silence—they want to get out of here as bad as I do. For my part, I do my best not to overthink things. The more I think about it, the more I might try to talk _myself_ out of it, and I’m determined to get us out of here. True to Naruk’s word, the orc guard returns about an hour later.

“Captain Ironstorm accept challenge.” Well, if that isn’t an incredibly intimidating name, even in broken-sounding Common. He unlocks the door with a key, cuffing me in manacles before leading me out.

“If Adam and Liss get back here before I do, let ‘em know that I’m getting us outta here.” I do my best to make my final words to my team sound confident and not so...final.

“Good luck, David.” Corrine gives me a sad smile from her side of the bars.

“Yeah, kick his ass, man.” Nate does his best to not look quite so unconvinced.

“We’ll be out of here in no time.” I try not to think about how our freedom—and my life—is on the line.

Leading me from behind, the orc pushes me past a few more empty cells until we reach the door I assume I heard earlier. It’s heavy and made of metal, though I don’t see a lock. He presses his wrist to the door, above the handle, and a second later I hear a click. _Huh?_ Before I have a chance to ask anything, I’m pushed through it.

As I’m led through the building, I do my best to take in my surroundings. We pass a few more doors before we end up in a larger room with a few other orcs. Some are conversing, but most are seated at desks and looking at papers. A few watch with amusement as we make our way through the room before we exit a final set of double doors to the outside.

_Wow._

We are definitely in a city. Buildings line the road on either side. The streets aren't packed, but there’s plenty of people—orcs—going about their business. A hand on my neck has me moving again, my warden apparently tired of my gawking. We turn right, and then right again down the next street so we are facing behind the jail, and I see where we are heading.

What looks like a large arena over two stories tall is situated just a few blocks down from us. The bottom half seems to be made of wood while the top half is stone. We’re doing this with an audience then. I suppose I did ask for that. We pass several orcs along the way, some doing a double take when they notice the metal cuffs on my wrists. A few even run off to the arena ahead of us, I guess to get a good seat.

Once we reach the open-air building, I see that the wooden walls outside are actually just panels laid over more stone. Several have been carved with intricate depictions of orcs engaged in different activities. They’re mostly battle scenes, but I also see what I think might be some kind of game or sport being played, and occasionally just some orcs standing around talking. Before I can look in more detail, I’m pushed through _another_ series of doors, past more orcs I don’t know—who all look at me funny. The guard finally slows down when we reach what seems to be the final door, knocking when we approach.

A woman opens the door, her skin, tusks, and large pointed ears a match for my jailer, though her hair is long and black. She says something in Orcish and the guard grunts in response before pushing me to her.

“Come with me, sweetheart.” Another orc who knows her Common, and also one who is a lot less pushy; she’s content to let me follow at my own pace into the room.

It’s a large room, not at all what I expected. In one corner is a wooden bathtub, the water within hot enough for me to see the steam rising from the surface. There’s also a table filled with food, and along one wall is a large mirror situated above a shelf covered with all sorts of bottles. There’s a couch against another wall with a second female orc currently sitting on it. About the only thing in the room I do expect is the _huge_ amount of weapons lining one of the walls.

I follow my new guard over to the mirror. I’m only just realizing I don’t think I’ve ever seen a female orc before today, not even in artwork. I mean, I guess I knew they had to exist, but I've only ever thought of orcs as male. They don’t look any different than a human woman does from a man. I just never pictured them before for some reason. I’ve seen more than a dozen in the last twenty minutes, including the two in front of me now, both dressed in simple black robes.

“Did he leave the keys?” the other orc, whose dark hair is pulled into a bun, asks.

“Damn, I forgot,” the first orc sighs.

“It’s fine. Come here sweetie.” The other orc signals for me, and I step forward. She takes a hold of my cuffs, placing her hand over the lock before muttering something to herself. The lock on my cuffs clicks, the manacles easily sliding off. “Much better.”

“Now, do you need help getting ready?” the first orc asks. Both these orcs sound a lot more natural when they speak.

“Um, no thanks. I think I’m okay.” _Get ready with what exactly? It’s a fight. Are they gonna spar with me or something?_

“Alright. You should have about thirty minutes. Once the ritual begins, you’ll hear a bell chime. Select your weapon from the wall—only one—and then walk through that door there.” She smiles warmly as she explains, pointing at a door set in the same wall as all the weapons.

“Feel free to use any of the oils or perfumes along the mirror. Just one more thing.” The second orc leans forward and places her hand on my lower stomach, muttering to herself again.

 _Oooooohhh boy._ Whatever she just did, it felt weird. Kinda like I’m… I dunno…lighter or something? The hell did she do that for?

“Alright, good luck.” The second orc winks at me, both women smiling before turning and leaving the room through a separate third door.

That was weird, but at least I’m alone for a little and can think. I make an immediate beeline to the table of food. It’s simple things like fruits and cheese, but still better than anything I’ve had in a _long_ time. I haven’t exactly been eating great since we started traveling. I’ve lost a _lot_ of weight, almost thirty pounds, and most of it was muscle.

I used to hold my own against Adam or Liss in a one-on-one fight, but now I can’t so much as arm wrestle them. It’s not like I’m starving or anything; I just never knew how much I needed to eat to maintain my size. You don’t really fill up on meals when you spend most nights sleeping outside. Still, what I lost in strength has been gained back in agility. I move quickly, precisely, using my opponent's strength against them. I’ve even practiced picking a few pockets here and there.

Which is why I’m not too worried about my chances here. But I do need to eat something. I help myself to some of the food, stopping when I feel like my stomach is full, though not so full that it’ll hinder my movement. Then I look over the rest of the room. The mirror I really don’t see the use for, but the bath... I haven’t felt hot water in ages. I pull off my clothes and toss them on the couch. They’re nothing fancy, just a shirt, some pants, and a loincloth, all cotton.

I use the stepladder next to the large wooden tub to lower myself in slowly. _Fuck_ does that feel good. For a few minutes, I just lay there with my eyes closed, content to mindlessly soak. Only for a few minutes though—I’ve got a death match to win after all. I spot a bar of soap and a washcloth on a small table next to the tub, and I am happy to scrub all the days of being outside off of my skin. I’m not sure how long I’m in there exactly, but the water never seems to go cold. These orcs certainly know their magic.

After a rinse and a few more minutes of soaking, I grudgingly pull myself from the tub. After weeks of nothing but cold river baths, that was heaven. I grab the towel laid out for me nearby, tossing it to the floor once I’m dry. I leave off my clothes, content to wander the room naked for now, something else I haven’t been able to do for a while.

I ponder the wall of weapons. There’s a lot: swords, staves, maces, bows, and quivers—just about any weapon I could think of and a few I don’t even know the names for. My weapon of choice used to be a broadsword, but after all the weight loss, I switched over to something smaller, usually a short sword. They're lighter, and at the moment, easier to wield. I’ve been practicing using a second one in my offhand lately so it sucks that she said I could only take one.

I reach for a sword that looks to be a good size, removing it from its perch. Steel, I think, the blade sharp and well balanced. I practice swinging it a few times before adding in a few jumps and dodges. It feels a little silly to be doing this naked, but I want to get a good feel for this thing before I head out there. I wish I could use my own sword. It’s nothing special, but I’m used to it.

I continue to practice with my weapon of choice, taking the time to warm myself up. I don’t wanna go out there totally unprepared. I’m in the middle of doing some stretches when I hear a loud bell ring coming from somewhere behind the weapon wall. I guess it’s time. I pull on my clothes, grab my sword, and head through the door.

Another hallway, though I can see the gate on the opposite end is open to the outside. The arena. I make my way toward it, suddenly feeling like I’m walking to my doom.

Which I guess I might be.

 _Nope, not gonna think like that._ I’ll kick this orc’s ass and win us our freedom. Maybe I won’t even have to kill the guy. Maybe I can convince him to yield instead. Everyone wins!

_Yeah, right._

The sun is blinding as I walk into the open air. The stands look near packed, the gathered crowd erupting in applause at my appearance. A much more positive reception than I would have expected for a human who’s about to try and kill one of their own. I’m tempted to wave, but opt to remain stoic. This isn’t exactly fun, and the more the crowd cheers, the more I realize how fucked up this all is. Did I make a mistake?

My opponent, Captain Ironstorm, is already on the field. The closer I get, the more I recognize him from the “incident.” He’s got short, cropped black hair, and if it weren’t for the green-olive complexion, he’d almost remind me of my dad. Unlike Dad though, he’s got a full beard, and well maintained at that. His tusks are at least an inch long, maybe an inch and a half, and he has deep, intense looking chocolate-brown eyes. _Not sure why I added that last part._

He's not wearing much in the way of armor, at least not compared to the leathers I remember him in earlier. He's got at least half a foot of height on me, maybe a little more, and _holy shit_ is he built. No wonder Adam had problems taking him down. Fuck, I remember how he knocked me halfway across the room. If I try to jump at him like I did last time, he'll wipe the floor with me. I leave some distance between us when I approach, matching my relaxed stance to his.

"Come here often?" Cracking jokes at inappropriate times is a nervous habit. He looks...amused? He gives me a curt nod of acknowledgment but says nothing. I nod in return, but the only thing on my face is determination. This won't be easy, and... I really don't want to hurt anyone. But I'm going to do what I have to.

The bell chimes again, and I think it's to signal the start of the fight. Ironstorm shifts into a more combative stance, though his expression is only slightly more serious. I follow suit, and as the audience shouts, the two of us begin to slowly circle each other. He chose a sword as well, but his weapon is much bigger than mine. Definitely a two-hander.

He makes the first move, leaping at me with a horizontal slash, and I move backward to dodge before jumping forward myself. My own sword is deflected easily, but it doesn't feel like we're really fighting yet. Just sizing each other up. He comes at me again, this time with a series of steady over the shoulder swipes. I don't so much deflect them as I knock them out of the way. He's got biceps the size of my head, and it's all I can do to meet his attacks head-on.

_Gotta think smarter, David._

He tries to leap at me again, and this time, I not only knock his sword away but deliver a swift kick to the gut too. He's pushed back slightly, holding his free hand to his stomach for only a moment. Gonna have to use my sword if I stand a chance.

We continue to toy with each other like this for some time. I'm not sure how long, but I'm starting to get tired, and frankly, the people watching seem like they’re getting bored. Time to stop screwing around, I guess. I think back to the fight in the ruins, the way that first orc came at me but totally biffed it and hit the ground. I don't think my opponent here is quite that stupid, but maybe there's a way I can still provoke him and use his reaction to my advantage.

I switch tactics, going entirely evasive, making sure I am consistently out of his reach while doing my best to land quick kicks and jabs where I can. Nothing more than small annoyances to him, but that's the idea. I can tell he's starting to get riled up when the smirk on his face shifts to a scowl, and then to outright anger. Here we go.

He lunges at me again, much harder and faster than he has before. But instead of jumping back and using his recovery to land a punch, I twist to the side, letting him pass me entirely and putting _all_ my strength into delivering a hard kick to the back of his knee. His leg gives out and down he goes, his sword clattering to the ground just out of reach. _This is it_. He's face down on the ground, his neck and back exposed. I raise my sword, ready to land the final blow, his body prone before me to take out.

But I hesitate.

And that's all it takes.

He pushes off the ground quickly and comes at me, spinning around and delivering his own kick right to my stomach. The wind is knocked out of me, and I am launched backward before hitting the ground. My sword goes flying, to where I don't know since I'm too focused on trying to breathe again. Before I have the chance to move, I feel a leather boot on my stomach again, though not pressing to hold me down.

In victory.

Once I can breathe again, I look up, seeing his muscular green form standing over me, the sun behind him, his sword pointed down at me. I'm brought back to the ruins, the last time I passed out with him above me. As sounds begin to filter back into my ears, I can hear the crowd roaring, and I can only imagine the sight we are.

_Why is he drawing this out? To humiliate me? Just get it over with._

"Do it," I say once I can find my ability to speak.

"Do what?" His voice is deep, gruff even.

"Kill me." Fuck, is he going to make me beg to die?

"What? Why would I... Why would I kill you?" He lets his sword arm drop to his side, and though the sun makes it hard to read his expression, he sounds genuinely confused.

"Because that's what we’re doing? Trying to kill each other?" What the hell is happening right now?

"You were trying to _kill_ me?" Okay, now he’s less confused and maybe a little angry.

"Y-Yes? Weren't you trying to kill _me?_ " I get a really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, beyond the boot-shaped bruise I have growing. "Isn't that what we were supposed to be doing?"

" ** _NO!_** " he roars down at me.

"O-oh." I don't know what to say to that. I don't know what's going on right now. What was all this then? What happens now? "I don't understand. What were we supposed to be...? What are you going to do now?"

There's a beat of silence. "Why don't I _show_ you?" I don't need to see his face to hear the venom in his voice. If he's not going to kill me, it sounds like I may wish he had.

He tosses his sword to the side, and I see it land some distance from us. When I look back up, he's pulling his shirt off next, tossing it away as well. Shit, I can't believe I actually almost beat this guy. He's a hairy motherfucker, and I'm not sure Adam, myself, or any other knight back at the academy could get a body like his, even if we hit the gym every day.

He moves down, his boot no longer on my stomach. Instead, he kneels over me, and I can finally see his face clearly. Yeah, he looks none too happy right now. I probably wouldn't be either if I found out someone was trying to kill me. But what is he doing, and why did he take off his shirt? There’s some roundness to his stomach but even that has a fuck-ton of muscle underneath it.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small pocket knife. I thought we were only allowed one weapon? I guess it doesn't really count, not like he used it. And just as I think that, he grabs my shirt in his other hand and uses the knife to rip it in half. The spectators around us cheer.

"What the hell!" _That's my fucking shirt!_ I don't have a lot of those!

"Quiet, or I'll gag you." The order is delivered the way my old drill instructors used to give them, the kind not to be defied or questioned. He finishes tearing my shirt, removing it from me entirely before he drops the knife and grabs my wrists to position my hands above my head. Then, using the tatters of my now ruined shirt, he ties them together. _Is he taking me back to jail?_ "Do _not_ move these."

I make no attempt to move them. He searches my face for a moment, but all he finds is confusion. "You truly have no idea what is to happen here?"

"I told you... I thought we were supposed to be trying to kill each other." Can't say I pictured ever having to say that to someone. This is more humiliating than I could have ever imagined.

"Hmmph. Humans." He pauses before picking up his pocket knife again. "You really should learn to think before rushing to action." Then he grabs my pants by the waist and rips the knife down one of the legs.

"Would you stop that!?" I need my pants! I have even less of those than shirts! "Can you just tell me what you're doing!?"

"Taking my prize for winning." His expression changes from anger to hunger. _What?_ He then rips through my other pant leg, the crowd erupting as he yanks the torn fabric out from under me. That leaves me lying on the floor of the arena in nothing but my loincloth, hands bound above my head. Then I notice his own pants, or at least the prominent bulge sticking out from them. _Oh gods, why is he..._ Remember when I said this was more humiliating than I could have imagined?

I'm too scared to ask if my assumptions are right. My whole body flushes red and thanks to that fucking pocket knife, it's all on display. Everything except for the thin layer of fabric I call my underwear. Ironstorm, looking confident even when shuffling on his knees, leaves my side. When I realize it's to move between my legs, I snap them shut in a futile attempt to keep him away.

He only smirks, grabbing my ankles and swiftly removing my shoes before taking my knees in both hands and easily parting my thighs. As he moves forward, his eyes rake down my torso before stopping on the only area I still have covered, his eyebrows quirking up in amusement. "It seems you may have figured it out."

 _What is he...? Oh no._ In my humiliation and fear-induced state, I didn't notice Little David deciding to wake up and join the party. Why here? Why now?

It's not like I'm enjoying any of this! I did not wake up today and think, “Oh boy I sure would like to get manhandled and tied up by a hot muscular half-naked orc.” I don't even like men! Even if I did just refer to him as hot. I've never been with anyone, okay? And traveling in close quarters for two months with four other people doesn't exactly give you a lot of alone time either. I'm just pent up, _that's all._

"I think I will keep these as a trophy," Ironstorm jokes as he reaches for my underwear, apparently not intending to shred them. Instinctively, my bound hands shoot down in an attempt to hold onto my dignity, but they're caught before they reach their target. My captor looks none too amused with my stunt. "What did I say about moving these?" he growls before slamming my wrists back into the dirt above my head, his entire body looming over mine.

"Please." Not entirely sure what I'm asking for here. He's practically on top of me, his arm stretched over my head as he holds me down. His underarm is as hairy as the rest of him, and the scent of his musk hits me full-on. I can even feel his erection poking against mine. "I... I've never..." Aaaaaand I'm turning red again. _Please don't make me say it out loud._

He looks at me curiously, but I can tell he doesn't quite believe me. "Do _not_ move them again," he grumbles before moving back to his earlier position, kneeling between my thighs. He takes both my legs in his hands again, this time bringing them together, sticking them straight up and bending them over his left shoulder. Then, lifting me with one strong arm, he slips the loincloth off my ass and up my legs. You know, like when you diaper a baby.

_Why can't he just kill me?_

He lays my legs down once again, spread wide and leaving me fully exposed to him and everyone else in the audience, who are once again raucous with glee at my debasement. My hands are balled into fists as I fight every urge to cover myself, too fearful of the wrath of the giant man currently ogling my naked body. It's not like I have anything to be ashamed of. My dick is a nice seven inches when hard. It's more the being-forced-to-do-this-in-front-of-a-bunch-of-people of it all that is getting to me.

He moves forward and uses his knees to spread my thighs farther, exposing more than just my dick. He grabs my left leg and lifts it, placing it on his shoulder. He then reaches into the pocket of his leather pants, pulling out a small glass vial. I watch suspiciously as he uncorks the top and dribbles a clear liquid onto his fingers. By the time he recorks the vial and I realize what he's doing, his index finger is pushing into my ass.

I can't help but hiss and squirm, half in pain and half in surprise. I can't tell how much he's got in me, but it feels like a lot, and I know his hands are fucking huge. My eyes water as I futilely try to push him out, but he only pushes farther inside in response.

 _Fuckfuckfuckfuck._ I've never done anything like this before. _Maybe_ I've thought about it once or twice, but I've never _actually_ had something in my ass before!

"Breathe." My eyes snap open at the order, and I take a breath as requested. I didn't realize I was holding it. That's the only bit of kindness I get though, as he continues to drive his large green digit in and out of my hole. I try to focus on breathing, but it's difficult, _especially_ after he adds finger number two. My eyes scrunch up in pain, and I turn my head to whine into my arm, earning me a small chuckle from above. It's about the only thing I can do. His free arm is wrapped around my leg, holding it tightly to his chest.

The initial entry may have been fast, but now that he’s in, he seems perfectly happy to take his time. His fingers stretch me as they slide in and out of my body, sometimes in sync, sometimes in a rhythm, and when he scissors them apart, it feels like I'm at my limit, like I might split in two. And once or twice he does this thing where he hooks his fingers upward and has me arching off the ground.

I'm not entirely sure when this switched from pain to pleasure, but now instead of fighting to push him out, I have to fight myself not to start pushing back on him. _Especially_ when he hits that one spot. I don't even realize it's me making the noise when I start hearing the whimpering and moaning. I try to use my arm to muffle myself, but I know he's already heard me. Not to mention my dick, which wilted slightly after the first intrusion, and has stiffened back up to full hardness. _Traitor_.

More gently than I would have expected, Ironstorm pulls his fingers from my hole, chuckling when I whimper at their loss. It just feels weird, okay? I guess I haven't really considered the next logical step in all this, only realizing when he stands and begins undoing his pants what comes next. Panicking, I look at the entrance I came through, hoping for a chance to escape. But no, the gates have already been shut. Would I have even made it that far if they weren't?

When I look back up, he's once again towering over me, only this time he's fully naked. The sun once again blocks the details of his features, but his outline is clear. His cock is _massive_ and as green as the rest of him. Even at my decent size, I'd probably develop a complex growing up next to that. He's got the vial out again, pouring more of the viscous liquid into his hand before discarding it with his pants. I'm mesmerized as he runs his slick hand up and down his shaft. _Out of fear!_

He kneels back down between my legs, and I shiver when his skin touches mine. The closer he gets, the more my anxiety grows, and when he lifts one and then the other of my legs to his shoulders, my body starts to quake. When he’s this close, I can read the desire on his face. This is really happening. He's really going to do this.

_Why aren't I fighting to get away?_

I feel the brush of his slick cockhead against my ass, and my breath hitches. I don't know if everyone has gone silent, or if I just can't hear anything over the pounding in my chest. Why did I agree to do this? Why did Nate have to cast that fucking fireball spell? Why did I even get on that fucking boat?

A hand on my face brings me back to myself. It's gentle, just cupping my cheek, making me look up at who it's attached to. The face looking back at me is softer than I've seen it all afternoon. The anger, or at least most of it, has faded away. In its place is...concern? I look up at him questioningly but before I can figure it out, he's leaning down to me, closer and closer, until...

 _Oh_.

I gasp a little, certainly not expecting a kiss in the middle of all this. I mean, I guess it shouldn't be entirely unexpected. People tend to kiss when they fu— _aaaand his tongue is in my mouth._

I groan, mostly in surprise but also because, and I hate to admit this, he's a pretty good kisser. I've kissed my fair share of girls, but none of them were like this. I was also usually the initiator of those kisses, though I guess I can see why some girls like the guy to take the lead.

Against my better judgment, I relax into the kiss. His tongue, larger than my own, slowly maps the inside of my mouth. It’s so different from kissing a girl. His beard scratches softly against my face, his tongue thicker and more demanding. He even tastes different. I run my tongue along his, letting myself moan a little. Something about my pride is making me want to prove that I'm a good kisser too. I feel a rumble of approval in response.

And then he starts pushing his cock into my ass.

I shriek—that's really the only word for it—into Ironstorm's mouth at the sudden invasion, though I'm not sure even _I_ hear it as the crowd explodes into cheers at the same time. Anything resembling a moan of pleasure warps into a whimper of pain. I start breathing heavily again, and I can't help but move my arms from where I'm supposed to keep them. I know I can't push him off, so I wrap them around his neck and squeeze. I just need something to hold on to.

For his part, Ironstorm continues to kiss me as he pushes into me farther, stopping before I take the whole thing, his hips still some distance from my ass. I'm struggling to stop panting as my hands scrabble feebly at his back. I'm still whimpering, unable to stop them or the rest of my body from pleading with my abuser for some comfort. The tongue in my mouth continues its gentle mapping, and I don't know if orcs _purr_ exactly, but there's that same gentle rumble from before as if he's trying to calm me.

I should point out that during all of this I am essentially being _bent in half_. I've always been pretty flexible, but this is not a position I've been in before. My knees are being pushed almost to my shoulders, and I can feel the full weight of the captain on top of me. I'm actually thankful for it because it means I can just relax my limbs and let him do the work at keeping me in place. Maybe thankful isn’t the word to use there…

Eventually, somehow, most of the pain subsides, and I'm able to relax, leaving me mostly with a feeling of fullness. But no sooner do I do this than the orc currently occupying space in my guts pulls back—both his cock and his face. My arms are pulled back over my head and what greets me is some of the same softness from before, but this time with an underlying lust that is clear as day. Lust that only grows as he pushes himself forward again.

He doesn't so much force the air out of me as he does a groan, an act he repeats a number of times at a steady pace. There's a slight burning sensation each time his cock is dragged in and out of my hole, but it's not nearly as bad as the first time. I find that I have to actually concentrate on relaxing because tightening up only makes things harder. The orc's face is on mine, no less hungry but watching me closely, I _hope_ for signs of pain.

But...the more he does it, the less pain there is. My own cock lies against my stomach, having gone completely soft when Ironstorm first speared me open, but starting to wake up again. Because of the size that my “friend” is working with, he has no problem hitting that spot inside me that he used his fingers to toy with earlier. And it's starting to feel pretty good.

The first moan is involuntary. As is the second, and the third. I try to hold them in at first, but as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, I realize I'm fighting a losing battle. I didn't notice before, but the captain has actually been ever so slightly fucking more of himself inside me with each thrust. I look down at my cock again, fattened up slightly but not by much. However, a small puddle of my own sticky juices is pooling on my stomach, each pass inside seeming to push more out.

A glance up reveals my captor grinning down, knowing without a doubt that I've begun to enjoy this. And I'll be honest with you: at this point, I don't really care anymore. After all the humiliation and pain, I'm surprised I'm able to enjoy this at all. It's a little late to start fighting again now, so I'm done.

Two green hands grab me by the backs of my knees, pushing my thighs down and once again folding me in two. Leaning his weight on his upper body, the captain starts to speed up while also changing the angle of his thrusts. The people in the stands shout at the change of pace and position, and I nearly join them, the incessant prodding making me see stars.

I look up to watch him as he works, his hairy muscular form shining as the sweat from his exertion starts to drip down his chest. Some of it falls onto me, and it's only when the cool drops hit my skin that I notice just how hot I am. Even though I've done little more than lay here, I'm sweating like crazy.

That's not the only thing happening. With each slam of his cock, I feel that little burst of bliss. But I also feel a pressure growing, somewhere in my lower regions. I can't tell where exactly, or why, but the more it grows, the harder it is to concentrate on staying relaxed.

I look down, as if that’ll give me any answers, but all I find is my still mostly soft cock leaking more than I have ever seen, even by my own hand. Thanks to my amazing flexibility, I can also watch his cock pistoning in and out of my ass. It's mesmerizing, the green skin disappearing between the pink and tan, only to be pulled back out, dragging some of the skin with it. I almost forget I'm looking at myself. But that pressure keeps building and building, and I still have no idea what it means. Only that I feel full, so very full.

"Fuck." I don't know what's happening, but my eyes roll back in my head. It feels like I'm going to explode, my eyes squeezing shut, my toes curling. Every single muscle in my body is tight, and I can't help but cry out when after one, two, three more thrusts, I suddenly let go of _everything_ I'm holding. More than that, I can feel all my muscles _pushing_ outward. I groan loudly as the tension is literally fucked out of me.

My head lolls back, and I struggle to catch my breath. _What was that? How do I do it again?_ Once I can see straight, I look down, my cock still only half-hard and sitting in a pool of my precum. _Did I cum? It felt like I came._ Even though I’m still _really fucking horny_. I look up at the captain, a look of triumph on his face, his body covered in sweat from his head to his waist. _Holy shit._ I am absolutely going to regret and probably repress all of this later, but this is one of the hottest things I've ever experienced. The sweat-drenched fur matted to his chest, the ripple of his muscles as he moves, the look of determination on his face—hell, I don't think I've ever _smelled_ someone like him before and been so turned on.

The pressure starts to build again, and this time I'm looking forward to what I know is on the horizon. I bite my lip as it continues, closing my eyes in anticipation before I notice that the captain's thrusts are starting to get a little...erratic. Just as the pressure reaches its apex, I open my eyes to watch him looking even more determined than before, slamming forward and burying himself completely with a growl.

After a few more short and fast thrusts, his full weight is on me again as his tongue seeks entry to my mouth. It feels like his cock is growing bigger inside me, and as he cries into my mouth, I understand what's happening. I can feel the hot jets of his cum volley into my ass, the thick pillar of meat pulsing with each shot. Ironstorm still tries to thrust himself deeper inside me, as if he isn’t already buried to the hilt.

All of this is of course more than enough to push me over my own edge, the climax rolling through my body, if that's even what it is. I let my arms once again wrap around his neck as my body releases, some deep part of me (that I will likely _also_ repress) finding the idea that I came with his load buried inside me intoxicating. I can't exactly see it, but once again it feels like my cock hasn’t actually shot anything, but if that _wasn't_ an orgasm, I'm not sure I know what is.

All the while our captive audience roars with applause in the background, hoots and wolf-whistles abound. Eventually, his cock stops pulsing and my body relaxes. My arms back on the ground, he raises himself on his hands, a thin line of drool connecting his tongue to mine for a moment. I almost try to follow him, but I'm spent. I'm not even sure I can walk right now.

His hand cups my cheek again, the lust in his eyes sated. I grip his wrist for a moment, fighting and losing the urge to kiss the inside of his palm. He smiles, and it's only as he pulls his hand back and very gingerly pulls himself from my surely-wrecked ass that our surroundings start coming back into focus. I hiss once he's free, blushing at the wet feeling that follows. I reflexively try to tighten my hole, cursing at the sudden sharp pain when I do so. As my legs are lowered to the ground and the passion dies down, reality rears its ugly head and the realization of what I've just done begins to weigh on me.

Captain Ironstorm, after giving me one last look, stands, turning to face our crowd of onlookers. As he roars in victory to the sky, they explode once more, yelling and cheering for their captain and his conquered. He turns back to me and bends down, at first I think to help me up. Instead, his arm goes under my waist, and I'm lifted and tossed over his shoulder, like a prize. Which I guess I am. I want to protest, to fight further indignities, but I've got nothing left in me. I'm exhausted.

Looking down, all I am met with is a hairy, muscular, green ass. I dare not look any higher unless I make eye contact with someone in crowd who just watched me nearly get the life fucked out of me. As the crowd applauds, the captain moves, taking me along with him. I still have no idea what comes next. I was expecting to either win this fight or die trying. My friends are going to sit in that jail cell for the next six months, and after the brutal fucking I just received, I'm not sure if what I ended up with is better or worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it! he first two chapters of Steel & Thunder. I hope you all enjoyed reading this, and I hope you'll enjoy reading the rest of the story when it's released in April!
> 
> If you liked what you read you can visit my website at <https://www.dominicashen.com> to learn more about the book and the other stuff I'm working on. I've also created a mailing list form you can sign-up for to get monthly updates and other content related to Steel & Thunder, and eventually the other books in the series. Note that the only required field is your email address, you can leave the other fields blank if you'd prefer: <http://eepurl.com/he5x-X>
> 
> If you DON'T want to sign up for the mailing list, that is also fine. I will still be posting here on occasion to keep everyone updated. I also have other social media links below you can follow if you'd prefer one of those!
> 
> Website: <https://www.dominicashen.com>  
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> Twitter: <https://twitter.com/domnashen>


	3. Excerpts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steel & Thunder is now a book! Now, that's all I can really say on that matter, as AO3 has rules and I genuinely love this site and what it does for writers and fans, and want to continue to use it to reach you all.
> 
> Below please find some excerpts from future chapters, as well as the full cover art if you have not yet seen it! The first two chapters have also been updated, so if it's been a while, maybe go back and give those a read!
> 
> You can find and read more stories like this on my website at <https://www.dominicashen.com>. You can also email me at [dom@dominicashen.com](mailto:dom@dominicashen.com) or find me on Twitter at [@DomNAshen](https://twitter.com/domnashen) where I post updates, story art, and more!
> 
>   
> 
> 
> Art by [jabberox](https://instagram.com/jabberox/)

The first * _smack*_ against my ass really throws me, crying out more in surprise than pain. Is he _spanking_ me?! The second _smack_ quickly proves me correct, and my hands, tied as they are, are fruitless to block any further blows. I haven't been spanked since I was a kid! _This_ is supposed to make me stop trying to escape? The third, fourth, and fifth blows, all of which cause me to start crying out in _actual_ pain, make me reconsider that.

I start to lose count after that. Around ten, he evidently gets tired of seeing my hands flailing around and pins them to my back, adding a little extra strength to keep the rest of my body from moving. His other hand, his right I think, continues to rain down on my poor already-abused ass. And his hands are fucking _huge_ and can cover each half of my poor butt in its entirety. The sting of each blow makes me cry out into the bed below. He changes the force, the angle, he's even able to seemingly pinpoint a different, yet-to-be-touched spot with each strike.

There's no rhythm, no rhyme or reason to how he's hitting me. The only thing I know is that more is coming. Always more. I'm not even yelling anymore, only able to grunt each time his hand connects with my ass. That doesn't mean I'm not still crying, just that I've got nothing left in me to yell about. The hand holding my own loosens its grip at some point after I stop struggling. The spanking stops altogether some time after that, though I'm not really clear on when. Too busy being a sobbing, blubbery mess.

* * *

I straighten my back and grab my wrist behind my back, eyes forward. Ironstorm walks around me, inspecting my progress.

"Good boy." I feel a hand card through my hair. "You are a quick learner. Next is 'Kneeling Inspection'."

My hands move from my back to my neck. I spread my arms, elbows pointing out as I puff out my chest a little.

"Square your shoulders." A hand against my lower back helps correct me. "Keep your arms in line with your hips." When he circles around to my front, I can see he's picked up the not-riding crop. 

"Okay, arms down. The next position is 'Display.'" He walks around to my left side. "First, sit back on your heels." I feel the cool leather of the crop brushing against my ass and I shiver, lowering my weight onto my feet. "Now, spread your thighs." A foot taps the inside of my thigh after I comply. "Wider."

I spread my legs even wider, almost uncomfortably so, but that seems to please him. There's a hum of appreciation and then the riding crop begins to slowly rub against the inside of my thigh, traveling up my leg and almost brushing against the pouch of my thong. My breath hitches and then it's gone and he's walking around me again.

"Lay your arms flat over your thighs, palms facing up." I move my arms, my hands stopping just above my knees. I shift the weight in my legs without thinking about it, earning a quick swat on the ass.

"Oww!" I move back into position.

"What was that?" He cocks his head.

"Oww, _Sir_." I grit out.

* * *

I sleep soundly until the very warm and very firm pillow I'm using decides it's time to get up. I grumble at it, reachin my arm out in an attempt to hold it in place. Just five more minutes. I was having a dream about flying over a rough ocean, with dark clouds overhead. It was a lot more relaxing than it sounds. A familiar warm chuckle at my act is what finally pulls me back to the land of the living.

"As much as I would like to continue sleeping, pup, I do believe someone has some friends we are due to see today." His words are teasing but the hand rubbing my back feels so good...

My eyes open and slowly adjust to the morning light. It's definitely earlier than it was the last few days when we woke up. We're in the center of the bed, with me half on top of him, for once intentionally. After our run-and-fun (heh), we had a pretty quiet and pleasant evening. After I took another shower, Khazak wanted to go over the training positions one more time before we had dinner. Then, after we split a steak (a fucking  _ steak _ !), it was time for bed.

After what we had just done on the bed earlier (and the fact that we always seem to end up here anyway), keeping up my protests about the sleeping arrangements seemed kinda dumb. So I just met him in the middle and didn't really think much about it. Or tried not to, at least. I roll onto my back and stretch my arms and legs. Kha--, no, Sir is right, I get to see my friends today. Before they're sentenced to gods know what. While I sleep in a warm bed and eat steak...

* * *

"Ayah!" The orc shouts at me as I sprint across. I can hear both sets of feet break into runs as they chase after me. Think David... The walls are still too high for me to climb, but the cells are shorter. No time to hesitate, I repeat my wall-jumping trick from outside, this time just managing to catch the edge of the top of the cell. Ha! I start to pull myself up as fast as I can, I'm in the clear!

And just as I'm able to get up on my elbows, a hand wraps around my ankle and yanks me backwards.

I shout as I fall and land on my ass, but I'm up in a flash. I try to take off again and duck down another row of cells when a massive body tackles me to the ground from behind. Hands grab my wrists as I struggle to get free, the weight on top of me not making it easy to do anything, even breathe. The body kneels up, pulling my hands behind my back, and as I hear the two voices talking again I can feel manacles being locked around my wrists. Dammit.

No longer being held to the ground, I'm pulled up and turned around to face my new captors. I don't recognize them but they sure seem to recognize me. Actually, scratch that, one of them - the one that didn't tackle me to the ground - is the same orc I talked to when I was in the cell here, with the bald head, big beard and huge tusks. The one who took me to the arena. The other guy I don't know. He's taller than the orc holding me, a little thinner too but still way bigger than me. He's got dark brown hair in nearly the same style as Ironstorm, and his bright blue eyes flicker in the light of the torch in his hand.

* * *

I reach down and give my morning wood a squeeze. It has been a couple of days since I last got off. Not since he did that thing with his tongue. My cock throbs in my hand at the memory. It's not like I have anywhere to be. I grip myself a little more firmly and begin to stroke myself. Haven't done this in a while, not since Holbrooke I think. Kinda hard when I was sharing a tent with Adam. Not to mention any masturbation material had to be pulled from memory. My go-to's were stories I'd hear from classmates about what they got up to, crude drawings from some very strange books in the library, and this one time I walked in on Lieutenant Smith fucking his girlfriend on a desk in one of the empty classrooms.

I have my own experiences to draw from now. I think back to that first morning, waking up to someone spooned behind me. The way I could feel him hard against my ass. His hand snaking around and grasping me gently, almost ghosting his fingers over my shaft. I copy the movement with my own fingers, biting my lip at the almost ticklish sensation. I had no real idea who he was at that point or what he was going to do with me, only that he currently owned me...which somehow made it hotter.

Gods, what is wrong with me? Getting off on being forced like that when I have much nicer memories to pull from. Like in the shower. Both times. I never knew kissing could feel that good, at least not before I’d kissed a guy. Kissing girls is fine I guess. Soft, warm, a little wet. But I think I mostly did it because I thought that's what you’re supposed to do. But standing under the hot water, his lips on mine, his hand moving along my body... I run my free hand over my chest and stomach, pretending that it belongs to someone else. Then I move it lower and give my balls a little squeeze.

Tongues are useful for a lot more than kissing too. I remember after the football game, right out of the shower when he threw my legs back and... I didn't even know that was a thing people did. I spread my thighs slightly and move my hand lower, behind my balls. I very tentatively run a finger along my hole, shuddering at the sensation as I keep stroking myself. I rub my finger around the rim, all soreness from our activities earlier in the week gone.

I hate to admit this but everything that happened that first day was hot. Throwing me down and using his knife to strip me... I bring my hand back up and scrape a fingernail down my chest. Then he tied my hands above head with the scraps and started stretching me open with his fingers... My hand moves back to my hole, this time pressing in slightly, all while the hand on my dick moves faster and faster. Then he threw my legs back and pushed inside me, fucking me over and over. Everyone in the stands watching, literally unable to control myself and cumming dry on his cock, his tongue in my mouth at the same time as he’s shooting his load inside of me. Fuck! My cock explodes, spraying cum all over my chest and stomach.

...Yeah, you're pretty fucked up David. And now also sticky.

* * *

With another chuckle Khazak sits up and moves to sit on the edge of the bed. He snaps his fingers and points between his spread legs. “Kneeling rest.”

It takes me a moment to register the order - that it even is an order - but once it does I move from the bed and sink to my knees between his legs, hands behind my back. Right in front of me is his cock, hard and lying against his thigh, green head peeking through the hood of his foreskin. I look up to await my next order.

“I think you have already figured out that the main thing is to be mindful of your teeth.” He grips his dick in one hand, pointing it at my approaching face. “We will start working to reduce your gag reflex next.”

The already-wet head of his cock bumps against my lips and I open them automatically. The familiar taste hits my tongue as the hand on my head beckons me further down his shaft, more guiding than pushing. Once I feel his cock nearly reach the back of my throat he changes his grip and begins pulling me back at the same speed.

“Good boy.” My eyes go up, my belly feeling warm at the praise. “We are going to work on taking me deeper now, alright?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before pulling me down further on the next stroke. I can feel his cock tickling my throat and I tense up a little when I know what’s coming. On the next round he pulls my head down even further and pushes his cock into my throat - and then holds me there. I gag almost immediately but I’ve got nowhere to go.

“Fight against the urge to gag and remember to breathe through your nose.” He finally releases me, allowing me to pull off completely. The hand that was in my hair moves to cup my chin, his thumb stroking over my lips. “It is difficult, I know, but unfortunately the only real way to take care of your gag reflex is to  _ fuck _ it out of you.”

* * *

_ To be continued... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liked what you read? You can find and read more stories like this on my website at <https://www.dominicashen.com>. You can also email me at [dom@dominicashen.com](mailto:dom@dominicashen.com) or find me on Twitter at [@DomNAshen](https://twitter.com/domnashen) where I post updates, story art, and more!


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